This Photograph is Proof
by faking fallacy
Summary: ON HIATUS: Harry Potter finds himself stuck in the past with no memory and no chance of ever returning back to his own time, tangled in a thickening plot of falling in love, finding his origins, and a culminating war. SLASH SiriusHarry


**Title:** This Photograph is Proof  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, Time-travel, Foul Language, Post OotP (really only means anything in the flash-backs/plot).  
**Pairings:** Sirius/Harry, Severus/Remus, James/Lily, (past Harry/Hermione)  
**Summary:** Harry Potter finds himself stuck in the past with no memory and no chance of ever returning back to his own time. In fact, no-one even knows that he is a time-traveler. Enrolled into Hogwarts a year below his own parents and not even knowing it due to his lack of memory, Harry spends his time in Hogwarts falling in love and falling into a war between light and dark. SLASH (Sirius/Harry)

**o0o**

_"Harry, you might be making things all right for you... but what about me? What about everyone else?" she asks, bursting out with it before he can run off and leave. "You're essentially signing a death warrant for every other wizard in the world so you can go save your godfather!" she yells, voice wavering as she borders on the edge of hysteria. Hanging his head, Harry's voice grows distant as he pulls on his rucksack, fidgeting with the papers he left lying atop his trunk, as an explanation. And a will, of sorts. _

_"Hermione. You and Remus are the two people I care most about right now. And I've ensured that the both of you will be safe. I took care in making sure that _you_, Hermione, will be safe. As long as you keep your nose out of this war!" he says firmly. She stares at him, blinking, before it dawns on her._

_"Harry, you can not be serious! You expect me to sit back and let Voldemort try and take over Great Britain!" Harry's silent for a few moments, and then grabs her by the shoulders, staring her dead-on into the eyes and speaks forcefully._

_"Hermione. He isn't going to _try_. He _is_ going to take over and nothing Dumbledore or the Order or even _you_ do will make any difference! Voldemort's not sending me away so that he can win. Don't you see that by now? He's sending me away so that it will be _easier_ for him to take control. No matter what, leave or stay, Voldemort will reign over the British Wizarding World and no one will care enough to try and stop him because he'll make enough treaties to let them know he's only interested in Britain and will leave everyone else alone. No one will _care_ about us, Hermione!"_

**o0o**

'_Where am I?_'

"Professor! He's waking up."

'_So loud_...'

"My boy? My boy, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

'_So... dark. Who's there?_'

"Are you awake? Can you open your eyes?"

'_My eyes?_'

Slowly, the boy on the bed lifted his eyelids, his brilliant green eyes fighting to come into focus. He couldn't see. He couldn't see _anything_ past blurred objects and colors and a blinding light shining in from all around. He wondered how long he'd been out of it for the light to affect him this badly as- for as far as he could ascertain- the only light coming into the room was from a few sets of windows. Someone was putting something into his hand, pressing it into his palm. Running his hands across it momentarily, he realized that they were handing him a pair glasses. Putting the large round glasses on, he blinks, staring at the crowd of people around him.

To his left was a nervous looking red-headed girl, wringing her hands and peering in on him in concern. _Concern?_ He wasn't aware he should be concerned... Could it be because he'd been asleep? And didn't remember ever going to bed? And waking up in a strange place? Probably. Next to the girl was a fair-haired boy, peering on in more curiosity than anything else. Over on the right was a severe-looking woman bustling around the large room- was he in a sickroom?- and waving around a wand furiously, harping on about people badgering _her_ patient. Patient? Oh, could he be sick, then? Turning head, he blinks, now facing dead ahead to the front.

Standing in front of him was a very queer looking man. He had a long, snowy beard that trailed down past his waist and periwinkle eyes that looked a bit enlarged due to a set of half-moon spectacles in front of them. Then again, even the old man's clothes were incredibly off. He had on a huge pointed hat that fell down to the side that matched his clothes. And he was wearing a pair of the _strangest_ robes. So strange, in fact, they nearly looked like muggle garb- trying to pass off as a pretend-wizard. It was all very well the boy couldn't see the man's shoes, then- as they closely resembled a cross between women's pumps and a leprechaun's buckled boot.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," the man spoke up, not unkindly, voice slow and careful. The boy just screwed up his eyes a bit and slowly started to push himself up into a sitting position- or at least somewhat of one as he started to stare. He had no idea where he was, or who any of these people were? And ... for that matter- he had no idea who _he_ was, either! How could he have missed _that_ one? Though- he supposed- one wouldn't normally take the time to consider if they knew who they were.

"We were starting to worry about you, especially after that nasty fall you had-" the old man went on, smiling far-too merrily than someone should be smiling when talking about a teenager having a bad fall. It was a bit unsettling. Before the man could speak again, however, the boy interjected, needing to ask.

"Who are you?" he asked, sounding much ruder than he'd actually intended on sounding. It was just an awkward experience for him, waking up in a completely unfamiliar place with his feeling much like someone had taken a hammer and chisel to his forehead and started to pound away. There were people staring at him as if he were from another planet, or something of sorts, and he had no clue what was going on.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, my dear boy," the man said, eyes twinkling oddly. "You're in Hogwarts School, and I am the Headmaster here." This actually did nothing to settle his nerves. Looking around, he sighed and lifted a hand to his forehead and pulled at his hair a bit out of frustration. Well. At least now he knew who he was and who was in charge here. He'd had, apparently, a 'nasty fall' and it looked as if he was the infirmary. All very good things to know.

"Well, that's great. Just one more thing," he said, swallowing a bit hard. He looked to the redhead who had moved progressively closer, dragging the boy with her along as well. The nurse to the other side had moved on in as well, staring curiously at the boy. And Albus Dumbledore's expression hadn't changed a bit. He was still looking in and seeming utterly nonplussed by any of this.

"Who the hell am I?"

**o0o**

Do not expect an update for this for a long time. I expect each chapter will be at least 2,000 words; no chapter will ever be _less than_ 2,000 words.

I will not do replies to reviews unless absolutely necessary, and -then-, they will be posted on a website for you to access. I will try to keep Author's Notes to a minimum after this.

**NOTE: (07/15/07)** I've lost all my previous notes on this story, so until they are recovered off of my old computer, this story will be ignored. Yes, it will eventually be written. Yes, Lily will be a Gryffindor. Yes, I will stop underlining things for emphasis.


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